How It Ends
by doorwaytoparadise
Summary: Captain Martin Crieff disappears with no trace. No one knows who he is, or that he existed, and only the crew of MJN know he was ever around. Now they need to figure out what happened and how to get him back.
1. Prologue: The Almost End

Prompt:

_Captain Martin Crieff disappears with no trace. No one at Fitton Airfield knows who he is. His van is gone. When someone goes to check his flat, it's not there either. That building never had an attic, and of course none of the students have ever heard of a pilot called Martin living in the attic they don't have, are you strange people all mad?_

_Martin's flight manuals are gone. His hat is gone. Captain Martin Crieff doesn't exist, and only the people at MJN know he was ever there._

_Now they need to figure out how to get him back._

_Whumpage deeply appreciated, and if you can do this without any "crack in the wall" Doctor Who crossover devices, you're a better plotter than I._

* * *

Carolyn frowned. Martin Crieff was late. This would not do. For one, it was entirely unprofessional, what with no warning even, and secondly, the man was never late. In fact, he was always most certainly early. His lack of presence was both annoying and a little worrying, though she would never admit it out loud. Douglas had already arrived a good fifteen minutes ago, and though he appeared uninterested, she had known him long enough to read between the lines and see his concern. They had tried ringing his mobile, but kept getting a message stating the number was not in use. They had decided to wait a bit more just in case he showed up. It was lucky they were on standby and as such, had no flying to do today, but Martin would've still shown up promptly. As the minutes ticked by, the agitation in the room grew, until it was Arthur who finally suggested they go round the student house to find him. Douglas agreed in a deceptively casual manner, but a shared glance with Carolyn revealed the similar worry of finding their Captain sick or worse. Martin was, after all, notoriously stubborn and prideful in asking for help, and also ridiculously unlucky. A truly dangerous combination all in all.

Piling into Carolyn's car, they made their way to Martin's residence, Douglas pointing out the way to go but offering no explanation as to how he knew it so well. Upon reaching the house, Douglas volunteered to go up to the door and find out what exactly was happening, citing his ability to deal with the students far better than Arthur or Carolyn. Douglas raised his fist and rapped sharply on the door, waiting patiently for an answer. After a minute or so, the sound of shuffling approached the door, and a sleep-tousled student stuck his head through the door. He blinked at Douglas, seemingly too tired to comprehend his presence.

"Hnn?"

"Apologies for disturbing your beauty sleep, but I'm looking for Martin."

"Who?"

"Martin. Martin Crieff? The pilot in the attic?"

"Attic? We don't even have an attic here."

"I beg your pardon? I realize you have just woken up, but surely you are mistaken. Martin has been living here for years."

"Look, I'm not hungover, high, or asleep, and if this is some sort of prank, it's not funny. It's just weird."

"I can assure you this is no practical joke. I'm getting to old for this."

At that moment, Carolyn appeared behind Douglas, having gotten tired of the wait.

"Something wrong, gentlemen?"

"Oh not really, just me being assured there is no Martin to be found. In fact, apparently there's no attic at all."

"I'm sorry? I've sent enough taxis here for pick-up to know that this is most definitely Martin's home."

"All you people are mad. There's no attic, no pilot living here. I've never heard of this Martin guy and I can guarantee the rest of the house will say the same, if you want to ask them."

"As a matter of fact, I think we do."

With that, Douglas and Carolyn moved past the student into the house and questioned every student they came upon. The first young man had been right in his guarantee. All the students just looked confused and stared at the two as if they had lost their mind. Douglas had even double-checked the existence of the attic, and found it simply not there.

They left the house, driving back to the airfield, sufficiently a little freaked out. They didn't mention the full strangeness of the situation to Arthur, letting him assume that Martin simply wasn't in.

"Maybe Skip will be at the airfield?"

"Perhaps. We may also find it beneficial to inquire with the ground crew."

"Really? Brilliant. ...why is that?"

"Oh simple curiosity that I wish to be indulged."

They pulled up to the airfield, piling out of the car, Arthur heading to the portacabin on Carolyn's orders while Douglas and Carolyn headed to find the ground crew. Both were frowning and deep in thought. The fact that the students not only insisted that Martin had never resided there but that the attic was completely nonexistent was a worrying situation. Figuring their chances were best in the Hose and Hydrant, they headed through the swing door. Sure enough, a good chunk of the workers were present. Spotting a few faces that they knew would be honest and had had interaction with Martin, they headed over.

"Ah the infamous MJN crew. What can we do for you?"

"Forgive us if this seems a tad strange thing to ask. But have you seen our Captain?"

"Your Captain?"

"Captain Martin Crieff? Skinny, ginger, prissy?"

The men before them just looked confused.

"'Fraid I don't know anyone like that. You sure you're not trying to pull one? I couldv'e sworn your captain was nothing like that."

"What is he like then?"

"Well he's- ...huh. I can't for the life of me remember. I just know he wasn't ginger or anything."

"Well thank you for your time then gentlemen. I imagine if I were to ask anyone else here, they would tell us much the same?"

"Probably."

"Right, Douglas, we have things to do. Good day."

The two promptly exited the bar, their apprehension only amplified. Stopping outside the portacabin, they turned to look at each other, similar expressions of worry, dread, and confusion on their faces.

"Douglas, do you have nay idea what the hell might be going on?"

"I fear you overestimate how omniscient I actually am."

"So that's a 'no' then."

"Essentially."

They lulled into silence, both wondering what on earth was going on, as all signs pointed to Martin not existing. But that was ridiculous. It would mean that all three of them had gone mad, and that couldn't be the case. The only explanation could really be that Martin had somehow vanished. So it was just a matter of getting him back.


	2. The Start

Part_ 2_

Martin stared at the sky. He closed his eyes. If he thought hard enough, he could imagine being in the flight deck, Douglas at his side, and Arthur and Carolyn bustling about the cabin and galley. GERTI humming beneath him, the sheer freedom of flying, everything that he had loved- but that was gone now. He opened his eyes with a sigh, letting his gaze drift away from the open air above him. Turning to look at his surroundings, he found them to be the exact same as the last time he had checked. Basically a transparent reality stuck between 'here' and 'there'. A sort of purgatory, where he didn't really exist anywhere, just floating in a strange state of living but not being alive.

Time did not pass here. He was not connected to the real world. And without that connection he could not watch over MJN. A captain, lost without his crew. Martin let himself drift into thought. The reason for his nonexistence being the foremost thought on his mind. The disaster, the deal, the disappearance...

**breakbreakbreak**

Martin blinked. He valiantly attempted to keep the tears that had gathered in his eyes from falling. God, he had never felt so completely _hopeless_ before. Then again, he supposed that somewhere in the back of his mind he had always known MJN would fail. The company was consistently on the brink of ruin, the plane was consistently falling apart, and clever as Douglas was, he still had his limits. So naturally, one final accident had left GERTI inoperable and all of them unemployed.

Well technically, Martin still had a job, as flying was just a hobby, and without the demanding schedule of MJN to cater to, he could easily get by just fine with Icarus Removals. But it was the rest of the crew that had Martin feeling helpless. Douglas, for all his assurances otherwise, could not afford to be without a job. He was currently struggling to keep his head above the water and from what Martin could deduce, he wasn't succeeding very well. As for Carolyn and Arthur, they had lost their house and Carolyn was looking for another job, as Arthur wasn't much help in that department. Arthur himself was just so terribly un-Arthurish that Martin got upset just thinking about it. And maybe others would say to stop worrying about them when his own situation wasn't exactly ideal, but he was so used to it that he really couldn't care less about himself. MJN were his only friends and he cared for them more than his own family. So of course, if presented with a way to make it better, he would leap on the opportunity.

"A witch."

"That is correct."

"You're an actual, 100% legitimate witch? As in, magic and whatnot?"

"Basically, yes. Has your dull human mind finished absorbing this information yet? I'm a busy woman. Go on and make your wish already."

"R-right yes. I-I have and um, wish. Right."

If asked later, Martin would say that he would never have even fantasized such an occurrence. But it seems that for once, luck was on his side, and saving the random woman from the oncoming car had been a blessing in disguise. Being told he was now owed a large favor wasn't too shocking by any means, but being told the woman was a witch and would grant him any one wish was a little more mind-boggling. But deciding that it couldn't hurt, Martin took the event in stride, deciding not to look a gift horse in the mouth. And really, wasn't he just thinking how he would do anything to help his friends? So of course, the wish was obvious. He found himself explaining MJN and their current situations, before stating what he wanted.

"I want things back to the way they were for my friends."

The witch raised a delicate eyebrow.

"A wish that's not self-fulfilling. I always liked variety. I_ can_ do this, but understand that this is a big wish and I am a witch, not a fairy godmother. There will be conditions and to fix such a dire situation, a price is required."

"Name them."

"No hesitation. You're an interesting man. The only way to possibly fix this predicament without royally screwing things over on a cosmic level is to send you back in time."

"What? Is that even possible?"

"Quiet. Of course it is, it just requires a price, which I was getting to."

"O-oh, right, sorry."

"Anyway, I send you back, _but_ you have to find a way to prevent that accident from happening to your plane in the first place. It's the only way to ensure things will stay on the course you want. And you'll likely only have about three days time to do it."

"Three days? Christ."

"Exactly. Messing with the time stream means you need to fix things quick. However, that's not all."

Here the witch hesitated, almost apprehensive to continue. Martin frowned, but nodded for her to continue.

"Your wish was for things to go right for your friends. _Just_ your friends. If you fix things, you're changing fate. Fate will want compensation. I'm afraid _you_ will be that compensation."

"What do you mean?"

Martin felt dread coil in his stomach. Of course he would give anything for his friends, but if this compensation was eternal suffering or something...

"In exchange for your friends retaining their stable lives, you will be swallowed by the fabric of reality."

Dead silence. Martin stared wide-eyed at the witch, mind repeating that last sentence over and over again in a futile attempt to process the enormity of what he was to sacrifice.

"So I'll be...wiped from existence? Permanently?"

"Basically."

"God. Seems quite harsh."

"For what you're changing? Not really. Keep in mind, wishes come true, not free."

"Of course."

Martin bit his lip, deep in thought. He desperately wanted to fix things for them, but to lose his very existence was- god he didn't even want to think about it. But one thing had to be clarified.

"Will they know? If I'm wiped out, will they remember me?"

"I don't know. They might, they might not. And this is only if you manage to stop the accident at all."

"Right. Well-" Martin swallowed thickly. "I accept. I accept all the conditions and the price. Send me back so I can save them."

"Very well. Good luck, Martin Crieff."

**breakbreakbreak  
**

A blinding light, a dizzying moment where he thought he was falling, a dull thud as he landed, and suddenly Martin jerked awake on his bed in the attic. He blinked rapidly, letting his vision adjust to the light. Had it worked? Was he really back? A sudden ringing sound pierced the room. He rolled over and picked up his mobile.

"Hello?"

"Martin, hurry up and get ready will you? We have a last minute booking today to Seoul of all places. Some rich businessman needing a last minute ride or something."

Martin felt his breath catch. The flight to Seoul...that was three days before the accident that had ruined MJN. He was really back.

"Martin? Martin, are you there? I don't have time for you to laze about, this client is paying us handsomely."

"R-right, right, sorry Carolyn, I'll be there soon."

Carolyn hung up without any further comment, but Martin kept the phone pressed against his ear and tried not to cry. He never thought he would miss getting snapped at by the CEO, but there it was. Still, he pushed himself up and out of bed, swiftly getting ready for the coming flight. He needed to get this over with and try not to be too distracted or draw suspicion from Douglas. He sighed. He had a lot of work to do, and a whole lot of things to fit in before he ceased to exist.


	3. The Resolution

Part 3

The entirety of the flight to Seoul saw Martin on the edge of his seat with anxiety. He knew Douglas was watching him as discreetly as he could, but simply couldn't help it. The possibilities and plans whirled endlessly in his mind. He only had three days. Three. Days. That was such a short amount of time to prevent an aviation disaster.

Still, he couldn't let himself dwell on 'what ifs' and worries. He couldn't afford it. Not with so much at stake. Of course, that didn't stop him from nearly having a panic attack from being overwhelmed. He had let Douglas take the landing, which naturally had the first officer alert. But frankly, Douglas being suspicious was the least of his worries. How the hell he was gonna stop GERTI from being irreparably ruined was most certainly a priority. Well mostly it was just objectively taking the incident and laying out the details, then laying out various ways to prevent the scenario. Right?

Oh, for god's sake, who was he kidding. He wasn't Douglas. He wasn't a clever sky god who could probably come up with a hundred ways to stop this. But, damnit, he had to_ try_. Right, just start with the incident itself. Know exactly what went wrong and why, then focus on how to prevent it.

Okay, easy enough.

Problem? Rapid decompression.

Why did it happen? GERTI was getting engineering work done at a foreign airfield, and the stupid ground crew didn't think to report running a bloody baggage cart into their plane. Which of course, managed to cause a cargo door failure imid-airi/.

Martin was still honestly furious with those groundsmen for such a stupid move on their part. That moment of sheer panic when the pressure dropped so suddenly and he nearly couldn't breathe and fuck, it had _completely_ messed with his inner ear, giving him barotrauma of all things. The vertigo and the mild hearing loss, which healed, were in all honesty a small price for them all being alive, but it certainly hadn't helped him land the damn plane. Douglas had nearly passed out because he had somehow managed to slam his head somewhere, and Arthur and Carolyn were no help at all, so really it was impressive they had all survived. He had landed GERTI, and they had all quickly disembarked, letting emergency services deal with the rest, as they huddled together beneath a few shock blankets. Investigation revealed rapid decompression as the culprit, but only after mentioning the engineering work and interrogating that particular ground crew had it come out as to what had caused it. Poor GERTI was deemed gone for good and MJN was over.

Alright, now Martin was angry again. And still panicky. And now Douglas was giving him worried looks. Perfect.

Martin schooled his expression back into neutrality, ignoring his first officer's concern. He'd let himself bask in it later, when their imminent doom wasn't weighing quite so heavily on his mind.

So basically, the situation was terrible and he wished he were Douglas or had his help, but Douglas hadn't really been able to fix it then, and anyway, it was a moot point.

Back on track, Martin organized his thoughts much like he did his paperwork, setting the incident aside for now, to make sure he didn't get them killed on the current flight.

The next two days were a blur of calculating, planning, checking, and double-checking. He had come up with a good-sized list of possible ways to prevent crashing, and had managed to eliminate all but one. He had thought to get engineering elsewhere (but Carolyn couldn't afford that), to magically find evidence of the baggage cart collision (impossible), to trick the ground crew (can't, he's Martin, not Douglas), to distract the ground crew (he had no idea how), to bribe the ground crew (nothing to bribe with), get Douglas to do something (how the hell would he explain it?), watch them working (that was just weird and paranoid even for him), or witness it (he had no idea when it had happened). He had finally settled on simply stopping the collision altogether himself. That method also ensured them a way home, after all, and a plane to keep business going afterward.

So the final day came. This was it. Martin could practically hear the clock counting down. He was practically humming with nervous energy, and of course Douglas picked up on it.

"Sir isn't nervous about a simple engineering job on GERTI? I realize this is a rather cheap place, but they do know what they're doing."

Martin bit back the _That's what you think_ he could feel rising. Instead he focused on giving Douglas an answer that wouldn't cast any suspicion on him. The worried looks had not ceased and even Arthur seemed to have picked up on Martin being slightly out of character.

"N-no it's not that. I just, I just have other things on my mind."

"I noticed. Sir has been rather jumpy lately. ...Is everything alright Martin?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that your behavior as of late is a bit strange."

Martin chewed on his lower lip, wondering how to deflect his first officer, but wanting to enjoy his rare show of concern. He knew he needed to say something at any rate, to get Douglas to stop worrying.

"Well, uh, van is a little slow lately, and um, I've just been in a mood. ...sorry."

"You don't need to apologize Martin." Here, Douglas gave Martin a long look. "You know, I realize I may not be the most approachable of friends, but I hope you know that we are indeed friends, so should you ever need help..."

Martin couldn't help but stare at Douglas in surprise. Which just made Douglas sigh.

"Sir needn't look so surprised. I pushed a piano for you, do you really think so little of me?"

"No no it's not that. It's just, it's that you actually said it, I mean, I-I know, of course I know! But ah I'm sorry, I'm just rubbish at this kind of thing. My family never really, I mean..."

He trailed off, unsure how to articulate what he meant. That his family sucked and were unhelpful, basically, but that seemed a tad rude to say about them. Thankfully, Douglas seemed to get his drift.

The two men spent a good chunk of the waiting time simply sitting together. There wasn't much to do around, so they just stayed put. Arthur had run off to explore regardless, and Carolyn had followed to keep him out of trouble. Eventually, Douglas ended up drifting off. Martin took that opportunity to slip outside and assess the situation. Making his way to GERTI, he eyed the nearby baggage cart. From the looks of it, the reason for the collision had been an elementary mistake of hitting gas instead of brakes. He wanted to bang his head on a wall. Something so minor had caused the downfall of his closest friends. He purposefully strode to the baggage cart, and while no one was around, took the chance to move the blasted thing away from the plane. Way away. So that even if the handler hit the gas, they would catch themselves long before they hit GERTI. And if it inconvenienced them to have the cart so far away, well good. They deserved it for their incompetence. With a satisfied feeling settling in his chest, Martin quickly slipped back into the waiting area where Douglas was still asleep.

When his first officer woke, he would assure him that he'd missed nothing. The two would play word games to pass the time. Arthur and Carolyn would return, Arthur chatting excitedly about what he had found, while Carolyn rolled her eyes fondly. They would return to GERTI. They would take off. Post-take off checks complete, they would fly her home. They land safely in Fitton. They taxi, they complete post-landing checks, they leave the plane.

Martin slips off for a moment to himself, claiming he dropped his mobile on GERTI, walking to the plane and staring at the cargo door. He was almost incredulous at how ridiculously simple it had been to prevent such an enormous disaster. He exhales shakily. Despite his elation at having actually done something right, he knows what happens next.


	4. The End?

Part 4

The sky was still light as Martin returned to the portacabin. Paperwork still needed doing and the crew was still there. His sense of victory was dampened by it being a Pyrrhic one. He felt the bitterness start to creep in. The sheer unfairness of setting all his friends' lives right but unable to live it out with them was a painful wrenching in his gut. He pushed it away. He knew what he was agreeing to from the start, and he was certain they were more than worth it. Might as well utilize the remainder of this day to say his goodbyes. Though of course, none of them would know. Or possibly even remember. That was the worst thing about it. Not knowing if they would even remember him in the morning. Much as he wanted them to, he hoped they didn't, to save them any pain.

He exhaled loudly, and moved back into their midst, smiling at Arthur's enthusiastic greeting. The time passed steadily enough, and Martin made a point to pull Arthur aside for a moment.

"Something wrong Skip?"

"No, no, nothing's wrong, Arthur, just...I just wanted to tell you, that, well, no matter what anyone says to you, you are absolutely brilliant, alright?"

Arthur looked ready to burst into tears, but he was grinning widely, and promptly swept the smaller man into a bear hug. He thanked Martin profusely, calling Martin brilliant as well and practically bounced away, humming happily to himself.

Martin returned to his desk, mentally plotting what to say to Carolyn that would convey his meaning, but not seem suspicious. Thankfully an opportunity presented itself when Carolyn called him into her office.

"Martin," she greeted, and continued without any further preamble, "it would seem that MJN is finally out of the red, and starting to make a profit. You'll be a paid employee from now on."

Martin's eyes widened. Oh, that was just unfair. Regardless, he went through with his plan.

"I-I, that's great news! I mean, for MJN to make a profit, n-not me getting paid, a-although that's great too, but uh I know this may seem strange to say, but Carolyn," Martin took a brief pause to steady himself and went on. "I just want to say, that even if I wasn't getting paid for the rest of whenever, I wouldn't leave MJN. Its become far too much of a-a home, I suppose. And uhm, I just want to thank you for having given me the chance in the first place."

Carolyn seemed a bit startled at such a heartfelt revelation, but recovered soon enough. Though her gaze was much softer now. She seemed to have understood Martin's meaning in calling MJN home and what that meant in regards to her.

"Martin, you truly are a sentimental clot. But I'm glad you're here, and I'm happy I can finally pay you. Go on, get out and get some rest before our next flight."

"Right." He headed for the door, before pausing, and turning slightly to face her. "Goodnight."

The door closed with a certain finality behind him, and Martin found himself regarding his final goodbye with some trepidation. He had nearly teared up in Carolyn's office, so he had a feeling he might actually start crying with Douglas. And that just wouldn't do. His thoughts must have shown on his face, because in the next instant, Douglas called him out on it.

"My my, has Sir gotten some bad news? You look like your cat has died, if you had a cat."

"What? N-no. Exact opposite of bad news, in fact. I'm getting paid now."

"That is excellent news. Might I ask why you looked so very morose then?"

"Its, uhm, er, I don't...I can't really explain it."

"Ah. Well, while sir is attempting to form coherent thoughts, might he fancy a dinner in celebration of finally being put on payroll?"

"What?"

"Dinner. My place. I'll cook."

"Uh, well, I-" Martin had not expected this, but when he stopped to think about it, decided he'd rather not spend tonight alone in his attic. Even if he may end up having to explain.

"If it's not too much trouble?"

"It would be my pleasure."

_breakbreakbreak_

The two left for Douglas' flat in the Lexus, after having said their farewells to Arthur and Carolyn. Martin had wound up hugging both of them, unexpected, but he was grateful for it. The dinner was a pleasant one, wonderfully made, as expected, with casual conversation between the two men. After finishing the washing up, they retired to the sitting room, turning the telly on to something bland for background noise. It was when they were both settled comfortably that Douglas turned to address his captain.

"Martin, I know I've already told you you could talk to me, but," Douglas paused, and Martin mentally went on alert. "I meant it when I said I was your friend. With an income, you probably won't need as much help, but just...just know the offer still stands."

Martin was frankly surprised. He hadn't even prompted this heartfelt confession like he had with Carolyn. No matter, it gave him a good excuse to say what he needed to without calling unneeded attention to anything amiss.

"I, I know, Douglas. And I-I, just, thank you. You know, maybe its a bit sentimental of me to say, but...you know, you're my best friend, yeah?"

The look Douglas gave him in response nearly shattered his resolve in not breaking down. His face was a mix of relief, gratitude, happiness, and the worry of a jaded old man with three failed marriages that it wouldn't last and Martin would leave him behind.

"And you're mine, Martin." Douglas murmured the reply in a way that suggested he wouldn't normally admit to it, in fear of being rejected.

Martin let himself eye Douglas for a moment, taking in the tired, aged appearance, and decided to take the risk of embarrassing himself to settle his friend's doubts.

"I don't have much. My own family is practically a group of strangers. Carolyn, Arthur, and you are all I have. So basically, what I'm trying to say is, I don't want to leave you guys."

Douglas gave a slight smile, turning his gaze away from Martin to the telly, but Martin could read it in his body language, years of sitting beside him giving him that ability, that Douglas was both relieved and content. Which only made Martin want to scream. Douglas hadn't picked up on the distinct wording of his last statement. Of course he would never want to leave them, but a deal was a deal. He simply turned to whatever show was playing, and forced himself to relax. The two men sat for a while, basking in the glow of the television and each others company.

_breakbreakbreak_

Douglas had fallen asleep on the sofa. He was on his side, facing outwards, face relaxed as he rested. Martin honestly hadn't expected that, but found himself thankful. He could fade away without questions or a tearful goodbye or confusing explanations.

Martin stared at the sleeping form of his first officer. He allowed himself to drink in the sight of him, for the last time. His gaze darted over the man's face, lingering. Martin bowed his head for a brief moment, an overwhelming wave of sadness suddenly gripping him. Lifting his head, he moved over to Douglas, sitting himself at his side, back partly pressed against his stomach. Martin leaned down, and gently pressed a small kiss to Douglas' head. As he pulled away, the full weight of what he was leaving behind crashed through him, and his breath hitched. He wasn't going to cry, he wasn't going to cry. But no, it seemed his body refused to bow to his will, and his vision swam with tears. They slipped down his face unbidden, and he choked back the sobs, not wanting to wake the man before him. He had gone the entire return without getting upset by the ending, but now that it was nearly upon him, he let himself shake with grief, silent in his distress.

Eventually he calmed enough to breathe in properly, even with tears still trailing down his face. But he had walked into Douglas' flat, into this night, already knowing how it would end. So he steeled himself as the clock flashed midnight. One more minute. One minute and he would be gone. He didn't know if it would hurt or simply be like falling asleep. Either way, he would at least choose what he wanted to see. One last long look at Douglas, at his friend looking so peaceful, and he closed his eyes.

_And in your heart,_  
_You know it to be true,_  
_You know what you gotta do._  
_They all depend on you._  
_And you already know._  
_Yeah, you already know how this will end._

If anyone had been watching the inside of the flat of one Douglas Richardson at exactly 12:01 a.m., they would've seen an incredible sight. Unearthly and pure, light slowly built around the smaller man present. It glowed brighter and stronger against his skin, brushing against him gently and weaving around his body. It began to pulse, even as it increased, until at last it peaked in a blinding flare reminiscent of the sun. And when the light at last faded away, there was only one man left in the room.

_Now you've seen his face._  
_And you know that there's a place,_  
_In the sun,_  
_For all that you've done. _

Douglas stirred in his sleep, brows furrowing as some part of him recognized that he had just suffered a significant loss, but he did not wake.

* * *

Italicized sections are from Devotchka's song How It Ends.


	5. Continuing

Part 5

(_back to start of part 2)_

Martin snapped out of his thoughts, returning his attention to the strange in-between realm he was currently residing in. Not that there was much to pay attention to. Thinking back on all that had happened only made him depressed. Satisfied, yes, but depressed. He had given up everything for his friends, and it was a move he would never regret, but he so desperately missed _everything_. Living in general, really. It sucked to not exist.

But there was nothing he could do to change that.

Unbeknownst to him, the witch had been keeping an eye on both Martin and his crew. She had been intrigued by such a large wish and how absolutely selfless it had been. Finding that kind of unhesitating self-sacrifice had frankly restored her faith in humanity. And a soul such as Martin's was a rare one indeed. To see it go to waste, floating around in the void between worlds was saddening.

Well, time to make it not then. She had told Martin that he couldn't mess with fate because he was the one gaining from the wish. But she had granted it, so fuck that. She decided then and there to use the one loophole she had to put Martin back where he belonged. And if fate had a problem with it, then fate could suck it.

_breakbreakbreak_

Douglas had so far had no luck in getting any further in finding out just where their captain had vanished to. For a man used to finding out exactly what he needed exactly when he needed it, it was frustrating coming up empty. Madness was looking more and more to be the answer.

After two days of fruitless searching for answers, the three members of MJN met back up. Arthur had been told the first day, since this wasn't exactly something they could hide, and had been decidedly less then cheerful since.

"No luck, Douglas?"

"I hate to admit it, but none. You?"

"Absolutely nothing. It's like he's vanished off the face of the earth. Or even simply never existed. Which is ludicrous."

"Ludicrous in theory, but all evidence points to that being truth."

"But Skip can't have not existed. I mean, I remember him, and Mum remembers, and so do you Douglas. So I mean if all three of us remember him, then he had to have existed."

"Yes that's true, but look at the facts Arthur. The students don't know him, the attic doesn't exist, his van doesn't either. The ground crew have never heard of him, he doesn't exist in any records, and we couldn't find anything on his family. You have to admit that that's awfully damning evidence."

"No! No, Skip definitely existed. He flew GERTI, he was Captain, and that all happened. Something weird is just going on and we just have to fix it. It's like that episode of Doctor Who, where the Doctor disappeared and they brought him back by remembering him. We already remember Skip, so we just need to figure out the bringing him back part."

"You aren't seriously using Doctor Who as a solution."

"Well look at it this way, Douglas. Martin appears to have vanished with no trace of existing. It sounds like it comes straight from the show anyway, might as well look at it from that perspective."

"I suppose you're right, Carolyn. How do you suggest we go about this then, Arthur?"

"Well we know Skip is missing but we don't know how. What if we just forgot how? And we just need to find a way to remember it and then Skip will come back. That's how it happened in the show."

"So, you're saying we find a way to trigger memories that may or may not be there. Alright, how shall we go about doing that?"

"We can split up and look around places that each really remind of us of Skip. Like, I would go on GERTI because that's where I relate Skip to most."

"Well, it's worth a shot."

"So it is, Douglas. Fine. I'll take Arthur to the airfield and we can get started."

As the three remaining crew members split for their respective places, the witch smirked to herself. Phase One had been ensuring they remembered him. Phase Two was now set in motion. Planting the idea of triggering memories in Arthur's mind was a risk, but one that paid off. The loophole was simple, but hard to execute without a bit of stealthy manipulation. Simply because it would never happen without interference. The three of them needed to each individually remember the original time-line by way of either heavy triggers, dreams, or a brush with magic. or something, and then he could be brought out from the folds of fate. She was pleased with the direction this was heading. Soon enough, a good man would finally get something he deserved.


	6. Remembering

Part 6

Arthur made his way into GERTI, figuring that was his best shot for now. If it didn't work, well okay, that was fine, he'd just try again somewhere else. He didn't know where the original idea had come from, but it sounded brilliant so he was happy to follow through.

As he moved about the cabin, he thought hard on what could possibly have gone wrong. Skip would only leave if it was big and important, right? And since this was a matter of him existing and not just being missing, it had to be bad too. More than the bird strike in St. Petersburg bad. But what was worse than having to land with one engine on fire? Maybe...the whole plane on fire? No, that didn't sound right, although it did feel like the right track.

He concentrated, moving into the flight deck to sit in the captain's seat. Right, so not on fire, but maybe if GERTI crashed? Yes, that seemed familiar. Getting a sudden urge, he moved to stand directly behind the captain's chair.

Oh, this felt weird, like that one foreign word that he had heard Douglas use before. The one about feeling like you had done something already.

Right, so this seemed...familiar. If GERTI crashed, then why would she still be here...? OH.

Like a bolt of lightening slamming into his mind, it hit him. Arthur jerked his head upwards, eyes widening. Skip was gone because of, because of-

Oh. Oh, this was definitely not brilliant. He needed to find Douglas. Douglas would know how to fix this. Whatever this was.

_breakbreakbreak_

Carolyn frowned to herself. She had dropped Arthur off at the airfield, telling him to call her when he needed picking up. She had decided that what reminded her strongly of Martin was not the portacabin or GERTI so much as her car. All the pick-ups and the times he had ridden in it, had given her a view of more of his personality than him in the flight deck ever had. So she had simply started to drive around town, aimlessly hoping for _something_ to occur. And occur it did.

With a curse, Carolyn slammed on the brakes, thankful she had been going slow in the first place. As such, the halt the car came to wasn't too screeching, and she managed to not hit the woman in front of her. She was about to stick her head out the window and give a truly frightening dressing-down, but the woman turned to meet her gaze, and Carolyn felt a jolt of something forgotten.

By the time she had recovered, the woman was gone.

Carolyn blinked, before shaking herself back to reality. The sense of a lost memory was stronger, and she had to pull off to the side of the road. That woman had given off a very strange vibe, and with it came the most peculiar sense of foreboding. Almost like during the bird strike... ah.

With a deep frown settling on her face, Carolyn felt a memory rise to the surface. One of panic, danger, and disaster. GERTI had...crashed? Yes, she had crashed, but then Martin- ? She pulled at the memories still unveiling themselves, seeking a date for this crash. Finding one, she felt more dread building. The date had passed already. GERTI was still working, MJN was still alive, but what the hell had happened to Martin? Laying out the facts, she found the only explanation was that Martin had found a way to stop it or something. His disappearance would then have to be because of-

Oh, that stupid boy.

_breakbreakbreak_

Douglas sighed for what had to be the hundredth time that day. He couldn't seem to find a place that would be strong enough a trigger. His memories of Martin were mainly at the airfield and in the flight deck, but something told him those wouldn't do. So, unsuccessful, he returned to his flat.

He dumped his keys on the counter, not bothering with anything else, and let himself flop onto the sofa. He leaned back and closed his eyes, intending to rest for just a moment.

Instead, Douglas had fallen asleep on the sofa. He was on his side, facing outwards, face relaxed as he rested. The exact same as _that_ night. Except that didn't make sense, because Douglas had no idea what night his mind was referring to. And of course, the fact that he was even aware enough to think that, made him certain he was dreaming.

The sheer overwhelming sense of familiarity was startling and he realized he may have found his way of remembering. So he did as he did best and let his mind work for him.

Snippets of conversation, blurred images of his captain, the knowledge that Martin had been acting strangely, all of these emerged in a painfully slow manner, and Douglas was still unsatisfied. However, a sudden crystal clear picture sprang forth, Martin with a heartfelt expression, looking a little embarrassed. He had admitted that he didn't want to leave MJN.

_Didn't want to.._. Oh, Douglas was a clot. How had he missed that distinction?

And now the memories came faster. That night's dinner and conversations, admitting Martin was his best friend, and then falling asleep. What had happened when he had fallen asleep? Because the next morning, he had awoken, alone, and couldn't remember anything about the night before, and had gone to work to find Martin had vanished.

He wracked his brain for anything that might clue him in, and found faint memories from his half-asleep, barely-aware mind. Warmth at his side, a dry kiss on his head, quiet crying, and overwhelming light. Then the sudden feel of loss that hadn't had a chance to fully sink in. Oh god.

Douglas jerked awake, sitting up swiftly, panting. So that was it. Martin had been over for the night, he had vanished then and there, but why...?

Suddenly, it all came flooding in. It seemed the unlocking of that heart-to-heart had been the key needed to open the gates. Douglas shot to his feet, cursing as he fumbled for his mobile. His fingers found Carolyn's number and dialed.

_breakbreakbreak_

Somewhere in the universe, buried within the folds of time, and hidden away from existence, there was a very good man. This very good man was about to get his reward, long overdue from years of bad luck and a generally miserable lifestyle. He was going to get it, because his friends, who he had given everything for, had proven just how good of friends they were by cheating fate so they could bring him home and thank him properly. For at that exact moment, three minds connected and clicked and time itself was being rewritten. Which wasn't supposed to be possible, but loopholes always existed.

The witch smiled to herself, pleased with the crew of MJN. Putting her faith in them had paid off and she could see one of the most remarkable humans she had ever met restored to his proper place in the universe. Things were looking up.

_breakbreakbreak_

Martin was startled out of his thoughts as a sudden tugging sensation began in his chest. It felt like his heart was being pulled at, and the rest of his body was being dragged along after it. For a second, he panicked, as the walls of reality around him flickered. He only had a second though, as the tugging reached a peak, and he blacked out from the force.

_breakbreakbreak_

Light. It was too damn bright. The birds were chirping too loudly too. Martin felt like he had a particularly bad hangover and pointedly kept his eyes closed. He concentrated on not moving, so as not to worsen his headache. If only the stupid birds would stop-

Wait. There were no birds in the between space. His eyes snapped open.

He found himself greeted by the sight of pure blue sky, and the branches of a few nearby trees. He pinched himself. It hurt, and he took a second to process the pain. Then he felt wary. He wouldn't allow himself to get his hopes up, not with higher powers involved and all that. It was too unlikely there wasn't a catch. Still, he felt a growing happiness simply from the fact that he was laying in grass and could feel the sun on his skin. He relaxed, deciding that until something said otherwise, he could savor this moment.

Which was promptly interrupted by the witch.

"Having fun?"

"What?"

"You heard me."

"What- oh, yes, but I meant what are you doing here?"

"Wouldn't a more appropriate question be, what are iyou/i doing here?"

"I try not to worry about strange things like that anymore."

"Well you should. Seeing as you've been restored into existence and your friends are still looking for you."

"Oh. Wait, what? How am I restored? And they're looking for me?"

"You were restored because even cosmic powers come with loopholes. Your friends found one and remembered you back into being. Like Doctor Who. And of course they're looking for you."

"But-but, how?"

"Well I may have influenced them a bit, but by individually remembering the original time-line, they were able to get around the deal with fate. They don't know any of the details of the deal, so that's down to you as far as informing them goes."

"You helped them bring me back? Why?"

"Because a soul like yours is rare, and it would be a shame to see it go to waste. Now scram, they're waiting."

The witch vanished without another word, and Martin was left reeling in her wake. He was back. He was back and his friends had brought him back. They had gotten around fate. Well of course, if anyone were to do it, it would be them. Idly, he wondered exactly how much they remembered. The original time-line, yes, but what about the one he had fixed? Did Douglas remember the night in his flat? Did Carolyn and Arthur remember their final conversations? Important questions, he supposed, but he'd worry about them later. He laughed, free and lighter than he had been in a while. Time for a reunion. He just hoped they weren't mad at him.


	7. Finale

Part 7 (end)

The three members of MJN had decided that the best place to meet up right now would be the portacabin. Douglas had called Carolyn and as soon as she had picked up, had spilled out what he remembered of the crash. She had confirmed that she remembered as well, and they had both agreed to meet back up with Arthur at the airfield. Arthur had wound up frantically phoning Douglas on his way, yelling something about a crash, Skip, and how Douglas could fix it. Douglas had then assured Arthur they would find a way to make things right, and hung up as he pulled in.

Now the three were sitting around Martin's desk, having just traded information on what they remembered and how they had done it. Douglas had left out the personal conversation he and Martin had shared, but that wasn't really relevant anyway. So they sat in a circle, unable to figure out what exactly had made him vanish in the night. It was Arthur who spoke up first.

"Well, we've all remembered Skip and the bad thing that was supposed to happen. So maybe he's back now and we just don't know it?"

"That could be, but then where is he?"

"Oh. Well...maybe he's trying to find us? So we could just wait here, because Skip would know to look here for us...right?"

"Well we don't have anything better, so I suppose we could wait for now."

_breakbreakbreak_

Right at the entrance to the airfield, Martin stood for a brief moment. He knew they were all sitting in the portacabin, having been looking for him. He bit his lower lip in worry. What if they were mad or upset or- stop. He forced those kinds of thoughts from his mind. The only thing that mattered was that MJN still lived and that they all had something worth getting up in the morning for.

He moved forward.

The nervousness was a prominent feeling, but he had to ignore it. He owed them the closure of seeing him back at the very least. Soon, he was at the door to the portacabin. He reached to open it, but paused, hearing voices.

_breakbreakbreak_

"Skip will come back, right Douglas, Mum?"

"He better, if he knows what's good for him."

"And by that, of course, she means yes."

"Thank you, Douglas, that was entirely unnecessary commentary."

"Yes, well, regardless of any vague threats to his person, I'm sure Martin would come if he were back. And of course, we shall welcome him with open arms. Lord knows what has happened to him."

"Well whatever it is, we'll be there if he needs it."

"Well put, Arthur."

"Yes, we'll be there, as long as he comes back to us."

_breakbreakbreak_

Martin stood, frozen, before the door. He breathed out, feeling his chest tighten with some unnameable emotion. Steadying himself, he opened the door.

_breakbreakbreak_

The sound of the door opening drew the attention of the three crew members present, and they all turned to it expectantly. Sure enough, a ginger head poked through, followed by the familiar thin form of their captain, looking nervous as ever. Once fully in view, Martin lifted his head to look at them.

"Erm, hello."

"..."

"..."

"..."

"Martin?"

"Martin!"

"Skip!"

After only a moment's hesitation, the three surged to their feet, rushing to their captain. Immediately they swamped him in a group hug, none, except Arthur, quite so willing to admit aloud just how much the entire situation had affected them, and choosing to express it through the tight squeezing of Martin's shoulders and the iron grip on his middle.

It only took a second for the situation to affect Martin. He hadn't realized just how much he had missed them, floating in nothingness. Immediately his eyes began to tear up, and he felt himself start to shake. The entire enormity of what he had been through came crashing through his mind and left him breathless and desperate for support. He nearly tipped over, only staying upright from the combined effort of the rest of MJN. Arms wrapped around him, and a hand was on his head, and another rubbed soothingly at his back, and for once, he threw pride out the window and soaked in the affection.

_breakbreakbreak_

Once Martin had calmed down, and tea had been distributed, the four sat around in a circle. Answers were needed and whether Martin wanted to tell them or not, he knew they deserved an explanation. It was just a matter of laying it out without getting flustered.

So he started. He touched briefly on the original events and how he went about changing them with the witch's help. He mentioned the deal, hesitating as he told them exactly what the price had been. He glanced away from them as he spoke about the strange space he had resided in. He told them of being pulled out and waking up in the real world, and the conversation with the witch, before coming to find them. Finding nothing else to say, he trailed off nervously.

Douglas, Carolyn, and Arthur sat, stunned into silence, each trying to process the fact that Martin had been willing to give everything for them. It was Arthur, who, as he often did, made the first move.

Martin nearly jumped when Arthur suddenly wrapped his arms around him.

"Skip, you're really brilliant. I know I always say you're brilliant, but I really mean it. Well, I always mean it, but this time I mean you're brilliant in the way that's a lot bigger than I normally mean it."

"What I believe Arthur is trying to articulate, is that you're a good man, Martin Crieff. And I'm not sure what I've done to gain such a friend who is willing to give me far more than I deserve."

"More than all of us deserve, I think. I meant what I said Martin. I'm glad you're here. And I will most certainly be paying you from now on."

"I-I, uhm, thank you. All of you."

"We should be the ones thanking you Martin."

Martin's brows furrowed, his eyes taking a look rather resembling a lost puppy, and he looked ready to cry again. He didn't, but Carolyn and Douglas had moved over to him anyway. A comfortable silence stretched over the four members of a family that had made itself. Buried in the love of his three most precious people, Martin felt content. The storm had passed, and though they had hit some frightening turbulence, skies were clear for smooth flying once again. And so they carried on.

_And_  
_You_  
_Already know._  
_Yeah, you already know_  
_How this will end._

* * *

Right. That's the end of this baby. Thank you for reading, and reviews are appreciated. Cheers.


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